


Potential Lessons for Freshers On the Perils of Excessive Drinking at Christmas Parties.

by duckgirlie



Category: RPF - That Mitchell and Webb Look
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:46:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckgirlie/pseuds/duckgirlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are nights before every morning after. Though only the most excessive ones result in a large blank in your memory, or a crowd of people on your doorstep trying as hard as they can to be sympathetic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Potential Lessons for Freshers On the Perils of Excessive Drinking at Christmas Parties.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dafna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dafna/gifts).



David had his head buried under his pillow and was making a pretty good attempt to block out the entire world.

It was never going to last though, because the doors were thin, and the people he knew were nothing if not capable of extreme projection.

"David. David! DAVID!"

"Fuck. Off."

There was about a five minute pause before whoever it was behind the door started throwing themselves _at_ the door, still chanting his name, and David was forced to pull himself to his feet and yank it open.

There were six people packed into his hallway, and that just made him feel wonderful, because if he was that obvious it was really rather pathetic.

Andy bustled into the room, plonking a bottle of something suspicious down on the table while the rest of them followed him in, collapsing in various places across the floor. Simon and Olivia were doing their best to look contrite at the invasion, but Richard and John were sprawled out enthusiastically across his armchair.

Freshers were ridiculous.

David groaned and made an attempt to bury himself under his covers again, but apparently Andy had gotten there first. He was trying to get the cap off his bottle, but it seemed his hands were slightly too cold to be of much use.

David was thankful for small mercies. Anything Andy had in an unmarked bottle was unlikely to be in any way beneficial at -- he looked at the clock -- eleven a.m. on a Sunday.

_Eleven a.m._?

"What are you all doing here?"

"We're here," Simon answered, "because we _love_ you, and you are obviously _in distress_." He was enunciating carefully, and it struck David that they were probably all still drunk.

That fact didn't make anything more bearable.

"And it didn't occur to any of you that the best way for me to not be be distressed anymore would be for you to leave me alone?"

The freshers were starting to look embarrassed at David's glare around the room, but everyone else was ignoring him entirely. Or rather, Simon was ignoring him to stare carefully at the ground, Andy was ignoring him to struggle with his bottle, and Olivia was managing to both ignore him _and_ condescendingly pat his knee at the same time.

"Enough!" he shouted, grabbing the bottle from Andy and managing to get the cap off quickly. If he was going to be dealing with any of this, he was going to be as comepletly hammered as he could possibly get, and he'd left the party far too early last night for anything to still be swimming it's way around his his system.

Whatever was in the bottle coated his tongue for a full five seconds, and managed to be both tooth-jarringly bitter and rough as hell sloshing its way down his throat.

David nearly choked. "Blergh."

"Good, isn't it?" Andy asked, smiling widely and grabbing the bottle for his own sip before handing it off to the piled freshers. They both took a tiny mouthful, seemingly terrified, before they passed it on. Simon turned green from the fumes escaping the bottleneck, and Olivia didn't even look at it before handing it off herself.

David tried to drink some more, but he gagged before he could even get a mouthful.

"What _is_ that?"

Andy looked at the bottle contemplatively. "I think it started as buckfast, but I added some vodka, and tried to mull it. I don't think it worked."

They were his friends, and he knew they were only there to help him, but right then, he didn't really want to have to look at any of them. He sat on his bed and glared morosely around the room until they started to get the message.

The freshers left first, mumbling something about parents coming to pick them up for Christmas before the alcohol finally caught up with Simon. Andy decided to walk him home, but it seemed there was no getting rid of Olivia, who crawled up onto the end of his bed, laid her hand gently over his, and gave him a look of such ridiculously sickening empathy that David couldn't decide whether to cry on her shoulder or throw up.

He settled for tea.  
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Rob woke up floating on a sea of mild nasuea, with a pair of legs kicking him gently but aryhthymmically in the side. He racked his memory, but he wasn't entirely sure how he got into this situation.

He tried to pull himself up without disturbing the person next to him, because he still hadn't figured out who it was and he wasn't sure how they'd react to being suddenly forced to face the cold light of day.

He was pretty sure this was the kind of thing they'd been warning the freshers about as the possible consequences of Christmas parties.

He finally extracted himself from the legs and the blanket and rolled himself onto the floor, landing with an 'oof' as he pulled the sheets out with him.

So his attempts to get up without waking his guest were all in vain. She stared at him, all tousled hair and sexily-smeared make-up.

"Hi," she smiled, and he felt like the biggest arsehole in the entire world because he couldn't quite remember her name.

"Eh... Hi?" Rob tried to pull himself together, but he seemed to be entirely failing.

The girl on the bed seemed to get a read on the situation pretty quickly, as she climbed out of bed with the sheet wrapped tightly around herself and started to pull her clothes on under it. He tried to alleviate his guilt slightly by turning around to give her some privacy to fix herself up.

It didn't work.

She finished quickly and he stood to see her to the door, pulling it open and standing awkwardly as she pulled her boots on.

"Bye, Rob."

"Bye..." And he didn't shut the sentence down fast enough, making it even more obvious that he didn't remember her name.

She seemed to take it in stride though, her invisible armour back on now that she'd dressed, and she rolled her eyes slightly before filling in his blank. "It's Davina," she told him, leaving the room and clacking off down the hall.

_Oh_.

That wasn't awkward or embarrassing or something he was going to mention to Olivia _ever_ at all.

He turned back to his bed and threw himself under the covers, scrabbling about on his bedside table for his phone. He had about ten texts that he didn't remember reading, from various people asking when he was getting to the party, and then later, asking where he'd disappeared to.

The three voicemails were the ones that were staring at him. Judging him. Two from last night and one this morning.

The one from David he listened to twice before he even took any of it in, because David was obviously _fucked off his face_, slurring his words so badly that after the third listen Rob still could't quite decipher it. He could just about tell that David was upset, but he had no idea what about, and none of the texts were from him so it seemed he was never going to find out. Even if David did remember (which, judging by his pronunciation of 'undoubtedly', he probably wouldn't) he didn't think he'd ever admit to being that incoherent without trying to dismiss it as something irrelevant.

The other two were from Olivia. She started slowly, asking where he had gotten off to, but as the messages wore on she got more and more irate. At the end she was practically yelling into the phone, calling him a complete toolbag and saying that she hopes he's happy because none of them are ever going to talk to him again.

Rob groaned heavily and buried himself deeper under the covers, resolving never to drink anything Andy gave him ever again. Then he added never getting into shot contests with freshers to that list for good measure.

He spent the next ten minutes trying really hard to remember what happened between the second Jaegerbomb with freshers and waking up this morning with Davina, but all he learned was that he had a huge bruise on his knee. Which told him nothing beyond 'you were so fucking snookered last night you don't remember falling over to a ridiculous extent, you complete numpty', and frankly, that wasn't something he needed any more confirmation of.

He listened to the message from this morning. Which managed, beautifully, to make him feel even worse.

_Hi Rob, it's Olivia. Listen, I know I was pretty angry when I rang you last night, so I'm sorry if I said anything regrettable. I hope you got home alright, you looked like you weren't entirely sure what was going on when you were leaving._

Look, I know we were suppose to meet up for breakfast, but a few of us are going over to David's. I... I don't think you should come. It might be best if you left him alone for a while, I think? I mean, I'm sure he'll be fine, eventually, but... yeah. Okay? I'll talk to you later. Bye.

There was a definite story to be pieced together from those three messages, but Rob was pretty sure it was going to be a jigsaw that would just make him feel like like a complete and utter cunt.

He pulled himself gingerly to his feet and slowly shuffled towards the bathroom for a shower. Halfway through shampooing his hair, the missing bits of yesterday reassembled themselves in his head like magic.

He was right, he _did_ feel like a complete and utter cunt.  
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_Yesterday..._

Rob's already through two pints by the time the party properly kicks off.

He arrived with David, who's a drink behind him but starting to smile anyway, and Rob's doing his absolute best to make him laugh more so he'd _keep on_ smiling. It seems to be working well enough, David's laughing at something Rob's said and that's making Rob smile as well and he's trying his best not thing think about why that is.

There are a pile of freshers by the bar, acting like freshers do everywhere, even though they all think they're much cooler than that. Richard is wearing a velvet blazer and looks like the rakish ex-boyfriend who's the obvious but eventually incorrect first suspect in a vintage _Poirot_ adaptation. He points this out to David, which earns another laugh, and he's about to make an equally witty observation about one of the other freshers when Olivia arrives, throwing her arms giddily around both of their necks and squealing excitedly.

"I've just finished all my marking! Bring on the shots."

Which is how they find themselves at the bar, drinking something Andy assures them is delicious. They don't believe him, so he drinks one himself to prove it, and they follow suit.

An apocalypse now is possibly the most disgusting thing Rob's ever tasted, but he does have to give Andy credit -- being so dedicated to making them drink it that he drank one himself. During the few minutes when he's trying to blot the taste off his tongue and yelling at Andy for being a bastard, David and Olivia disappear.

Andy tries to placate him with a pint, and he stupidly takes snakebite because he thinks it's the only thing that will get rid of the horrible taste. But he finishes that in about ten seconds, right as the freshers are ordering a round of shots, and he doesn't really try to object when they include him in the order.

Jaegerbomb consumed, he looks for David and Olivia, and finds them whispering secretly in a corner. He nearly falls over twice on his way over, and they stare at him as he makes his way.

They stop talking the second he gets close enough to hear, but he's not going to worry about that because he's going to try and make David laugh again. He rests one hand on the couch's arm and the other on David's shoulder as he leans forward, but he forgets what he's trying to say as he leans down and ends up slightly slumped over the two of them.

Mostly on David.

They extract themselves from under him and Olivia presses a glass of water into his hand. She gives him her best teacher look until he swallows it down, and he makes sure he's sitting still and behaving himself. Then David disappears again and Olivia curls up next to him.

"Are you alright?"

"What are you talking about? I'm fine."

She doesn't look like she believes him.

"I'm fine," he insists. "I'm just drunk."

She's still looking at him.

"It's _Christmas_, Olivia. I'm allowed to be drunk. Where's David gone?"

"He's in the bathroom. I'm sure you can survive ten minutes without him, can't you?"

What on earth is she talking about?

"I can survive fine."

She leans forward and ruffles his hair slightly. "I know you can. But be careful, alright? You're kind of freaking him out."

That's entirely unlikely, because all he's trying to do is make David laugh, and who doesn't want to laugh?

At some point in the next hour, the party decamps back to Andy's place and, if possible, everyone gets even drunker.

They're all laid out on the floor, drinking whatever Andy has under his bed and listening to everyone else trying to top each other's dramatic stories. He's pretty sure they stop being entirely true about halfway in, becoming instead efforts to freak out and impress the freshers in equal measure. It seems to be working, though Rob would bet anyone a tenner the fresher in the stripy shirt is trying to work up the confidence to make a play for Andy, who is cheerfully oblivious.

A few squealing girls crash into the party around two a.m. They pelt everyone with mistletoe and chant 'kiss, kiss, kiss' at the assorted partygoers.

Most people throw it back at them, but a huge clump lands on the bed above Rob and David's heads, and Rob isn't sure if he should blame the five pints or the three shots or the fact that David is laughing enthusiastically at what he's just said, but he leans in, wraps his hand around the back of David's neck and presses their lips together.

It takes David a few seconds to react, and it doesn't take long before he can hear all their friends laughing hysterically, but for about ten seconds, it's kind of great.

He takes another drink of whatever's being passed around and tries to start battling through the alcohol to think -- when the girl with the mistletoe slouches down next to him and throws her legs over his.

"That was totally adorable."

"Thanks?"

She smiles widely and snuggles herself in closer to him, sharing whatever it is she's drinking.

He's making a good effort to pay attention and try and keep his eye on David, but he loses sight of him for a minute and when he finds him again David's sandwiched between Olivia and another one of the mistletoe girls. The next time he looks over, David and Olivia are wrapped into a deeply intense conversation, and her hands are stroking up and down David's arms, squeezing his shoulders tightly.

He turns back to the mistletoe girl. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

She smiles widely. "I'm Davina."

He grabs the bottle and swallows half of it in one go. "I'm Robert."  
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It took three cups of tea, and a promise to call her later that day, but David finally managed to get Olivia out of his room. It took a further five minutes to get her to stop hovering in the hallway and actually _leave_, but then he was finally free.

Free, and most definitely not thinking about anything that happened last night. He wrapped his scarf three times around his neck, pulled his glasses on, and set out for the papers.

When he got back, Rob was standing outside his door, not wearing a jacket, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets, hopping back and forth and huddled against the door. Rob lit up when he saw David approach, but he was pretty sure he looked decidedly unimpressed because the smile slid right off Rob's face and he just looked scared.

David stood in front of the door, holding _The Sunday Times_ in front of him like a sheild, and found himself trying to slide up to his doorway sideways, doing his best to ignore Rob's presence entirely.

Rob didn't got the memo though, because he only took a step closer as David opened the front door, his hands shoved even deeper into his pockets and his shoulders hunched against the cold.

David knew he should probably have _said something_, because he suddenly found himself in the hallway, with Rob, and this interaction was entirely not going to plan.

"Can I come in?"

David huffed. "Fine, I suppose."

"So _now_ you want to," he added under his breath, which just served to irritate him more, and after he'd managed to calm himself down with all the tea.

Inside his room, David tried to move around and get himself back in charge of the situation, but Rob was just standing there, right next to him, making it impossible to think about anything else.

He threw his papers down on the table and turned to lean against it, folding his arms angrily and staring at Rob, waiting for him to do whatever it was he'd come over to do. But even though it was warmer in David's room, Rob was still pulled tightly together, looking like a thousand emotions were flashing around his brain.

They both started to talk at the same moment.

"Look…" "Look…"

David smiled in spite of himself, and shut his mouth to let Rob talk.

"I had a bunch of self-rightous justifications worked out on the way over here. I was going to find some way of blaming you for all of this, because you're the smart one, and it's your job to make sure everything happens when it's supposed to, but then I told myself that that was ridiculous, because I've seen you with girls and I know you never say anything at all, ever, even when it is really obvious, so it couldn't be your fault. So it's pretty much all on me, because I didn't do anything, and then I did everything, but it was entirely wrong, and I didn't know what to do."

He paused. "And I know it's not an excuse, but mitigating circumstances: I could barely stand up last night. I didn't even know what happened, any of it, until I checked my voicemail."

David's face was still unreasonable, and Rob hunched his shoudlers over even further, seemingly trying as hard as he could to both maintain and avoid eye contact.

"And I get that you probably think I'm a complete and utter twat right now, and I'm not denying any of that, I'm really not. And I understand if you don't want to –" He gestured emptily around the room, "–whatever, or anything."

He took his hands out of his pockets, though he was still fiddling with lose threads on his cuffs.

"It's just…" He finally looked up at David's face, "we're nearly finished here. And I know you regret that you don't take more chances, ask more people out. And I just…" He paused again, looking at the floor and raking his hands agitatedly through his hair, "I just don't want to be something you're going to regret."

He looked back up at David, who had an unreadable expression on his face, though Rob thought, _hoped_ it was tending towards positive. He bit one of his nails and tried for a tiny joke.

"Though I'm pretty sure we can blame Olivia for almost everything."

David met his eyes. "Probably. She has been awfully suspicious lately."

Rob's face lit up when David spoke, and he took a step closer, his hands raising to touch him almost involuntarily, but he stopped short halfway and tugged his arms back down.

"Does that mean… okay?"

"What am I saying 'okay' to?"

Rob flexed his hands gently before taking a step forward. He took hold of David's wrists.

"I'm not entirely sure. Yet."

"Okay, then."

Rob's face finally lit up fully and he wrapped his arms around David's neck to pull him close.

"Excellent."

**Author's Note:**

> There were about ten precursors to this story that died a harsh and stressful death, so I hope the survivor gives you what you wanted.
> 
> (In case you're curious, an apocalypse now contains jaeger, sambucca, and cremé de menthe, and is exactly as disgusting as Rob said it was.)
> 
> And lots of thanks to myystic for a very thorough and exceedingly last-minute beta!


End file.
